Time keeps on tickin'...

2010: The Great Exodus. Fled the political instability of my homeland (really, I just ran from a fight). Toronto was bright, clean, and shiny. Plus, it was really nice to back a winner for a change. 2016: The Ensickening. Unfortunate test results forced a Grand Reckoning. Slaying the unslayable dragons? No more. Countryside pursuits? Nope. Riding my Harley as a full-patch member of an honest-to-goodness MC? Alas. Manual-transmission cars? Buh-bye. Taking the amount of steps between A and B for granted? No longer. Typing with two hands? Ha! I didn't realize the death throes of What Might Have Been would take so long, though. 2020: The Grand Sneeze. I was honestly surprised by the length, breadth, and enthusiasm of the self-centredness that lay within each of The Great Unwashed and their refusal to accept reality. Oh well, at least I figured my stuff out, right? 2022: The Sciencing of the Masses. Everyone is now individually qualified and confident to google up their own scientific and/or medical opinions until they find something to corroborate their stupidity. Amazing. Just when I thought I knew where ignorance's borders lay... 2023: The Normalling of Stupid. It has now truly become a zero-sum binary world, bereft of merit or qualifications. Merely shouting loudly or standing in a large enough group is all it takes to be "right". The eagerness with which the teeming hordes all scurried back to the meaningless pursuits that got them and our planet in such trouble actually amazed me. 2023: When we Were Kings. On my was back home. Like Inigo Montoya, I'm going back to the beginning. Where once I would have been King, I now return battered and broken and limping, but alive and hopeful. There's still more happy water in the well, right?